


We Were in Screaming Color

by Chash



Series: Coming Out of My Cage and I've Been Doing Just Fine [3]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Hollywood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-03
Updated: 2015-05-03
Packaged: 2018-03-28 21:19:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3870136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chash/pseuds/Chash
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bellamy's first red carpet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We Were in Screaming Color

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tacosandflowers](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tacosandflowers/gifts).



> Was I supposed to NOT write fic about [this](https://twitter.com/WildpipM/status/594821332983877633/photo/1)? I was clearly meant to write fic about this. It is DESTINY.
> 
> This takes place roughly a year after Are We in the Clear Yet; it's the premiere of the movie Clarke was filming in Arcadia. The premiere in Like the Moon Needs Poetry is Bellamy's second red carpet.

"You don't have to come," Clarke says, flopping onto the couch and putting her head in Bellamy's lap. She was sort of hoping they'd just forget to send her an invitation to the premiere of her last movie, but apparently the director was onto her, because he sent it to Monroe, and Monroe sent it to Lexa, so there's no way she's getting out of this.

"Why wouldn't I come?"

"Because red carpets are the worst and everyone's going to ask ten billion questions about how I'm doing since I left Hollywood and if I'm pregnant and when we're getting married and if I'm happy and I'm going to bring at least five flasks. You don't have to suffer with me."

"It sounds kind of fun," says Bellamy, and Clarke gives him a deeply distrustful look.

"Fun?"

He shrugs, toying with her hair. "We go to LA for a few days, I get to see the two people there you actually like, you're really into how hot I look in a tux, we get drunk and have limo sex, and then we come home. Sounds like fun to me."

Clarke considers. "Well, when you put it like that."

*

"He probably looks fine in formal wear," says Lexa.

"Can you stop pretending you think my boyfriend isn't hot? My boyfriend is hot. He always looks good."

Lexa makes an impatient noise. "Yes, fine, he has some number of things that work about his face. Does he have his measurements? Send them to me, I need to get something tailored for him. Actually, when are you getting to LA? He should see the tailor in person for his first tux."

Clarke looks at Bellamy and then puts the call on speakerphone. "Is this your first tux?"

"I could probably find the one I rented for junior prom."

"Mon Dieu," says Lexa, and then some more creative French profanity. "Your life is a tragedy."

"Which one of us is dating the awesome movie star, and which one of us isn't anymore?" he asks, smug.

"Which one of us is a world-famous supermodel and which one of us is you?"

"I'm so glad you two are friends now," says Clarke, proud. "But I think we can probably do better than your prom tux."

"Was it powder blue? Did it have ruffled sleeves?"

"Yes, because I went to high school in a 70s disco movie."

"When are you getting to LA?" asks Lexa again, which means Bellamy won this conversation. Clarke grins at him.

"Like five hours before the premiere, and that's just because Monroe was going to have a panic account if we waited any longer."

Lexa hums. "Of course she was. That reminds me, tell her that she should stop texting me now that she no longer works for you. I'm very busy. I don't have time for her middle-school flirtations."

"I can't wait for you two to finally get married."

"I look forward to your drunken, tearful maid of honor speech." She clucks her tongue. "I know a good tailor in DC, I'm going to call him and set up an appointment for Blake. I assume you're allowed to leave your village and interact with the larger world on weekends?"

"Only if I get permission from the mayor," says Bellamy. "Thanks for your help, Lexa. I really appreciate it."

There's a long pause, and Clarke buries her snicker against Bellamy's shoulder. Lexa's inability to deal with him like an actual human being is her favorite thing. "I'll text Clarke the details," she finally says, and hangs up.

"I should get you guys those best friend necklaces with the broken hearts," says Clarke, laughing.

"I'm sure she wouldn't send us a video of her melting it down and turning it into a bullet that she'll use to kill me," he says. "But in a nice way."

*

"I'm so jealous!" says Octavia, pouting. "Will you do a shout-out to me on the red carpet? Like, love to my much awesomer and hotter younger sister Octavia? Maybe a producer will discover me and I can go and be a giant action star. I'd be such a great action star. Lady Indiana Jones. I could do all my own stunts and everything."

"That _would_ be awesome," Clarke grants. "We can work on making that happen."

"That's what I'm saying."

"You're not allowed to leave me for Hollywood either," Bellamy says. "I just got Clarke out of there, I'm not swapping you in."

"Too late, this is the best plan ever," says Octavia. "I'm gonna be the next big thing. Clarke'll give me a shout-out if you don't."

"I will. And she might like LA. Lots of people do. Besides, we need more awesome female action stars. Don't be selfish, Bellamy."

"I have to go, my planet needs me."

Bellamy rolls his eyes. "Fine. Me and Clarke will network for you. We're great with people. It definitely won't go wrong."

Octavia makes a face. "Oh my god, you're right, I didn't even think of that. You guys are the worst possible people to get my career started, aren't you?"

"I might be good on the red carpet," Bellamy says. "We don't know."

"You guys are going to be jet-lagged and belligerent."

"Murphy's going to be there," Clarke adds brightly. "I'm totally going to fight him."

Bellamy holds his hand up for a high five, and she gives it to him. "We're going to make you a star, O," he tells his sister.

She shakes her head with a snort. "Can't wait."

*

Bellamy's tux is pretty much the hottest thing ever. Clarke's really a fan. He makes her text pictures to Lexa ("Do them in black-and-white, she'll be really impressed.") and then has to talk her out of having sex in the tailor's dressing room.

"We'll mess up the tux."

"I can buy a new one."

"As flattering as that is, there have got to be better things for you to do with your money. Charities. Or getting me a motorcycle."

"You want a motorcycle?"

"More than I want another tux."

"Yeah, but more than you want to have sex in this dressing room?"

He kisses her. "Public sex isn't really one of my kinks, sorry. We can have sex when we get home. And limo sex at the premiere. Don't forget about the limo sex. I'll be in the tux for that."

"Limo sex isn't public sex?"

"It's car sex. Totally different kink. I love car sex."

"Sorry I'm not familiar with all of the different sex categories."

Her phone starts playing "Short Skirt, Long Jacket," and Bellamy steals it to check the text. "She says it's probably the best I can do." It rings again, and he grins. "Wait, never mind. I'm supposed to get a haircut and do something about my forehead. I thought that was way too encouraging."

"What's wrong with your forehead?"

"Nothing, Lexa just doesn't want to admit I'm beautiful just the way I am."

Clarke kisses him on the cheek. "Will you at least wear the tux when we get home tonight?"

He sighs, like he's very put upon. "Maybe for a minute."

"Oh yeah, that's definitely about how long it'll last."

He snorts and ruffles her hair. "Just remember, it has to be intact for the red carpet, or the press will ask you what you did to me in the limo on the way over."

"Blowjob, probably," she muses.

"Yeah, sounds about right."

*

Monroe meets them at LAX with a sign that says _I hope you appreciate that I used a vacation day for this_. Clarke kisses her on the cheek and Bellamy picks her up and spins her around.

"You didn't _have_ to take the day off," Clarke says. "We would have been fine."

"Lexa sent a lot of shit, someone had to sign for it. Besides, you'd be lost without me. Harper's cool, but she doesn't give me the level of codependency I'm used to from your shitshow of a life."

"Yeah, I miss you too."

Lexa has sent a beautiful dress and a large selection of accessories, which is actually kind of worrying. She never trusts Clarke to do things like pick her own handbag and earrings. "Is she sick?" she asks Monroe.

Monroe shrugs. "She says you need to start taking baby steps toward dressing yourself. She at least only sent one pair of shoes, or I would have flown to Paris to murder her."

"I have nice shoes!"

"If Lexa didn't send shoes you'd wear Chucks," Bellamy says.

"Well, they're more comfortable. And I have the black ones, black Chucks go with everything."

He kisses her temple. "This is what I'm saying." He surveys the pile of bags. "I want the silver one," he decides.

Monroe stares at him in horror. "What?"

He reaches over and picks up a shiny silver clutch. Clarke was kind of thinking about taking it herself, but if Bellamy wants it, that's way better. "It'll look really nice with your tux," she tells him.

"Right? And I needed somewhere to put my phone. If I put it in my pocket, it'll ruin the nice lines and Lexa will yell at me." He grabs a black one and gives it to her. "This one will go with your dress."

"Lexa is going to fly here to murder _me_ when she sees this," Monroe mutters.

"Don't worry," says Clarke. "I'm sure if she ever comes back, all your weird sexual tension will explode, and you'll just have sex for a week."

Monroe sighs dreamily. "Fingers crossed."

*

She doesn't blow him in the limo, mostly because Monroe comes with them, so they just play Trivial Pursuit on her phone as Clarke gets increasingly nervous. When the limo stops, she feels herself starting to actually hyperventilate, which is absurd, because she doesn't _mind_ red carpets. She's done them a lot. She's fine. It's just--god, she hasn't missed this _at all_.

Bellamy takes her hand and strokes his thumb over hers. "You're fine," he says. "We'll get through the press, and then it's just free booze and beating up Murphy. And before you know it, limo sex."

She glances back at him, his mess of curly back hair, his crisp white shirt and black tie, the fucking sparkly silver clutch, and she can breathe again. "Thanks for coming, seriously."

He kisses her, quick and soft, all support and comfort. "Always. Come on, you've got an adoring public to face."

The red carpet goes surprisingly well. Bellamy's used to reporters and pretty smooth with them; he ignores their actual questions and gives them book recommendations. Clarke memorized the designers of everything she's wearing, and of Bellamy's clutch, and they barely even have to dip into her flasks. It's probably the most fun she's ever had at a Hollywood event.

Lexa texts about ten minutes after they make it to the free booze. _He looks very fetching. The clutch really brings out his eyes._

"Nicest thing she's ever said to me," Bellamy crows, pumping his fist. "Get the friendship necklaces before she changes her mind."

Clarke takes a selfie of the two of them making kissing faces and sends it to Lexa with the caption _Thx for dressing us, we <3 you_.

_I'm embarrassed to know both of you._

*

Three weeks later, Bellamy gets a package from Amazon with eight sparkly clutches in a variety of rainbow colors and a note saying _You'd better convince her to do more movies, or you won't have anywhere to wear these._

"I think she liked the friendship necklace," Clarke says, grinning, and Bellamy laughs.

"See?" he says, only a little smug. "I told you the red carpet would be fun."

**Author's Note:**

> Bellamy definitely bought Lexa [this necklace](http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B00L3KNWTW/ref=s9_simh_gw_p197_d0_i5?pf_rd_m=ATVPDKIKX0DER&pf_rd_s=desktop-1&pf_rd_r=1TXR6PRMZ9BVNC98Z4BY&pf_rd_t=36701&pf_rd_p=2079475242&pf_rd_i=desktop), and she definitely kept it.


End file.
